An Ode to Her Heart
by Licensed to Kill
Summary: Sequel to "A Broken Sonnet" He said that he could never love her, but when someone comes in the picture, a realization occurs a little too late. This time around, it would be different- it was his ode to sing. /In Revision/
1. Adieu, with Love

**Disclaimer:** Yu Yu Hakusho is owned by Yoshihiro Togashi.

* * *

**Chapter I**

_**Adieu, with Love**_

The wind was cold against her skin, untouched by the sun in the afterdark. The city lights illuminated the skyline in a picturesque scene of vibrant shades while cars crowded the road and turned the corners in regular intervals. People of different stature, from public elites to mere idlers, seemed one and the same as they jadedly walked the grimy alleys and pathways. She pitied them in their heedless drifting, as they were but mere specks in an earth ran by something far beyond what they could ever comprehend. Yet at the same time, she couldn't help but envy their ignorance.

She had wanted to be just like them. She had wondered how it would be like to live oblivious to the reality outside her own, to be free to dream limitless and desire even the impossible. She had long grown to be resentful of their capacity for such emotions, for she too hungered for the passion that burned with the greatest of needs, thirsted for the obsession that brought even the strongest of men to their knees_._ She should have known better. Unfortunately, she had learned far too late the repercussions that came with such worldly desires.

Although a year had since passed, that one fateful night remained vividly clear in her mind. In his wake, he had marked the ending of so much, and there was nothing to be done but accept it… and hurt. And it was nights like this that it ached the most, in the company of solitude, reminding her of the painful truth. She was, and would always be, alone. She had felt so ashamed, appalled with the weakness that had held her back crippled and ruined. She found peace in her regret, but even that had not been enough.

So she forced herself to forget, increasingly spending time in the Spirit World, and taking on missions that stirred her clear of the Spirit Detectives. The last time she had seen them was four months ago, on mere seconds that seemed like hours when she announced her resignation as their guide. She had received a questioning look from Kuwabara, a knowing grunt from Hiei, and a boisterous protest from Yusuke. She had not dared to look at _him_, familiar with the lethality of his indifference. She had not looked back since then.

But now, as she boldly floated over his house, she was suddenly flooded with emotions too familiar. The walls, which she thought she had successfully established, began to crack and tremble, and with each passing moment, its blocks tumbled down, piece by piece, dawning in her a brutal realization that felt like a hard blow in her chest_. _All this time, she had believed a lie, for she clearly had not forgotten. And like a cruel joke, she was caught utterly defenseless as the wounds reopened and the pain renewed, for there, through the clear panel of his window, revealed in its overwhelming clarity the truth she had tried to deny for so long…

There he was sitting on a chair with an elbow on its arm. His eyes were closed and his head was resting comfortably on his hand. However, what shattered her all over again was the woman kneeling forward with her lips pressed against his.

…he still held her heart, and she could do nothing but watch and _feel _as he bled it dry. But what killed her the most was the realization that no amount of devotion would make him love her, in this lifetime, or another.

* * *

It was a simple mission that involved no hostility of any sort, a simple retrieval operation of a third-class relic in the Demon World. However, she was proven wrong when she was paired with a most unlikely partner. Koenma insisted that _he_ should tag along, as he was quite familiar with the location they were supposed to investigate. And wanting to escape the tortures of hell, even for the short-term, he had gladly accepted the prince's demands. She, on the other hand, had no other choice, for his backing would greatly increase their chance of finding the artifact.

So here she was, in unfamiliar territory, stuck with a demon she barely knew. True to his nature, he had not wasted any opportunity to slaughter anything that breathed, and considering his unrelenting enthusiasm for violence, it would be with no surprise if she, too, were to wind up with her head blasted into scraps. There was not much she could do, for she was just a servant to Enma Daioh and nothing more, while he, a former accomplice of Taguro, was a known villain with proven history of rabid insanity.

In shorter words, he was Karasu, and she was just Botan.

"We really should be looking for a place to stay for awhile," she started with a worried frown when she felt the splatter of raindrops against her skin.

"Scared of a little shower?" he smugly asked.

"No," she trailed in a fume, "I'm tired and my feet hurt." All she needed was a few minutes of breather after miles of trudging through unfriendly ground. Was it too much to ask? Apparently so when it came to the snotty mass of arrogance that was the crow-demon, and the chance to prove her point came when he indifferently replied, "Which reminds me why weaklings bring such inconvenience."

"It's not my fault I wasn't born a freak!" she retorted, spurting incoherent words under her breath as she tried to figure how to survive the entire mission without killing herself from frustration.

The demon replied casually, "Ouch, the harsh words."

"I thought you're supposed to make this easier, but it's been two days and we still haven't got a clue." She glared at his back. "We're going nowhere when all you do is blow up the next available demon."

"Would you rather have them eat you alive?" he asked, as if the answer was not glaringly obvious.

"Of course not!" She gritted her teeth and her face turned red in anger. "But we could have taken a good amount of helpful information from all those unfortunate creatures you've just mercilessly barbecued!"

Karasu lifted a hand to flick a stray of hair from his neck. "Remind me next time to offer you as exchange for some information," he said blankly, almost cynically.

"Why you arrogant jerk!" This time he ignored her, and it made her all the more aggravated. Here she thought Hiei was a prick, but this man was so much worst. He irritated her at every glance, every turn, and every word. She could not understand her frustration when they were but strangers to each other. "Hey, are you listening to me!" she seethed, envious of his strapping confidence, and bothered at how little he thought of her that he could stay so eerily calm when she was, quite literally, steaming.

Unexpectedly, the demon came with a question, "Would it help?" he asked.

She looked at him curiously, her head cocked to the side.

"Would it help?" He threw her a glance over his shoulder. "If I listen, would you stop talking?"

She gasped at his audacity. "Absolutely not, I can talk whenever I want to!" she exclaimed, pausing for a moment in order to compose herself. "Why do you have to make things so difficult? I can't start to imagine what Koenma was thinking when he asked _you _of all the people."

He turned his attention to the path ahead before inserting both hands in his pockets. "You're stuck with me whether you like it or not," he spoke without looking back. "That won't change, at least not for a few days, so you'll just have to learn to deal with it."

She knew he was right, but she would never dare to admit it, and so with all her pride, she responded with no further delay, "Just the reason why I feel sorry for my self, for I could have had _anyone_, but here I am stuck with _you_. I could have asked Lord Koenma for a more sympathetic, better-looking partner." She threw him a defiant stare. "But I didn't have a choice, did I? So I ended up with the most insensitive, unappealing guy ever!" She gave a snort, a challenging smirk was written on her face. "I'm not even sure I can call you a guy with your _odd _obsession over pretty little boys."

He stilled.

_Hah! Finally heard something that made you stop, you jerk! _she thought in triumph when his arms dropped to his sides. However, it was too late when she noticed something terribly wrong about his silence when he reached up to remove his mask. She froze in her spot, the smug look on her face, gone. She gulped. The seemingly insignificant metal veil was not there for trend or style, she knew of its purpose, and that knowledge was what set off the warning bells in her head. He turned and she was rendered speechless. No, he was not attractive at all, this man—he was beautiful.

At a snail's pace, he walked towards her. In response, she withdrew until she found herself backed up against a tree. "W-what are you doing?" she asked in a stammer. Her eyes widened in anticipation. It was then when she realized that it rained harder. "Karas–" "I could pass right through all your mocking remarks, but if there's one thing I couldn't ignore…" he trailed as he closed the last of their distance, then braced his hands on the trunk on either side of her, trapping her in. In a painfully slow speed, he leaned down so he could whisper in her ear, "It's you questioning my sexuality."

She shivered when she felt his breath against her skin. His scent, a mix of lime and sandalwood, invaded her senses with a myriad of sensations that nearly overwhelmed her. "I assure you, _Botan_, that I'm a woman's man." His voice was deep and husky with a promise that made her knees feel unnaturally weak. "To prove my point…" Then, before she knew it, his lips were crushed against hers. She froze the second time that day. Her heart was pounding so hard that it was deafeningly loud in her ears.

She felt her resistance weaken as she slowly closed her eyes and began to respond, submitting to the insistent caress of his lips. She found herself helplessly intoxicated with the taste of him, blended with a tang of power that was uniquely his. She was both surprised and frightened by the unfamiliar heat that coursed through her body, leaving her with an aching need to sate a hunger unlike any other.

She should be angry, for he had just stolen something that was never meant for him. But at the split second when his lips met hers, it was then when she realized that she was willing and prepared to go beyond the known to discover something new.

**End of Chapter One**


	2. The Fools of Memory

**Disclaimer:** Yu Yu Hakusho is owned by Yoshihiro Togashi.

* * *

**Chapter II**

**_The Fools of Memory_**

_- 5 months ago -_

_The world stopped. The line between right and wrong was slowly blurred. Moments lost its meaning, reason faded, and everything else lost its significance as time marveled at the beauty of their vulnerability. Nothing mattered._

_Only her…_

_Only him…_

_Something was different this time around. They felt it. The skies could see it. The air could almost grasp it. Still, nothing mattered. Not the rain. Not the tree behind her back. Not the dirt beneath their feet. Not the lure of their unexpected fragility in a land walked by warriors and demons. _

_The scheme to spite her had long been forgotten, yet why he hadn't stopped was beyond him. She was yielding as he selfishly consumed the innocence of her supple lips. She tasted of wild fruit and floral, and to him, nothing could have been sweeter. _

_She welcomed his warmth in the middle of the pouring rain and wondered how he could fit her so perfectly. For a second, she forgot who they were as she basked in the fleeting reality in which there were no good or evil, allies or foes, spirits or demons. _

_After what seemed like an eternity, their lips parted, but neither moved. With just a hair's breadth away, he earnestly studied her face. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks were flushed, and her lips were parted, red and swollen. Without removing his hands from the tree behind her, he pulled away, just enough to put space between them. _

_Her hair glistened with dampness, and a strand had matted against her face. His gaze instinctively followed a droplet of moisture as it dribbled steadily from her cheek to her neck, and down to the hidden flesh under her kimono. He could see her chest heave with labored breaths, and he couldn't imagine anything more alluring at that moment. Seeing her in such a state, because of him, made him swell with pride._

_Her eyes drifted open, and she found herself mesmerized by pools of the same hue. Although his face remained void of any emotion, his eyes burned with an intensity so unexpected and unknown that she couldn't help but shiver. Her mouth parted, but not a word came out. What happened moments ago had yet to sink in, but she knew something had changed—_

"_What have you been eating?"_

—_or not_

_In a flash, her dreamy look turned into irritation. She sneaked up and exclaimed on his face, "My breath smells just perfectly fine, you jerk!" This time, her cheeks flushed with annoyance. "And just to jog your memory, I never asked you to kiss me!"_

_Finally dropping his arms, he took a step back. He briefly eyed the female before inserting both hands in his pockets. "I never heard you complain," he said, looking as nonchalant as ever._

_With an exasperated rumble, she retorted, "How could I when you were busy suckling my tongue!"_

"_Would you rather have me put my mouth somewhere else?" he asked, his eyes traveling down her form suggestively._

_As if possible, she went a crimson deeper than before. "Pervert!" she screeched. "Arg, you're impossible!" She flailed her hands and stomped her feet in frustration before dropping down on the tree's massive root. "Look, let's just forget about it, okay?" With a sigh, she fixed her attention to the sky. "Anyway, what are we going to do now?" she asked, worry suddenly in her voice._

_His gaze lingered on her for awhile, his eyes narrowing a fraction before he turned to the side. The rain showed no signs of slowing down, and a thick fog was closing in rapidly, obscuring everything in its path. Although it wouldn't make much of a difference to a demon with decades of experience, the ferry girl, on the other hand, would find it hard to trudge through the terrain in such conditions. "We'll wait," he replied without giving her so much as a glance._

_A comfortable silence enveloped them, and she found herself stealing quick peeks at her companion. His face remained bare and she took the chance to learn the details of his profile. He was tall in stature, handsomely proportioned, and with a dignified stand. She never noticed it before, but there was an elegance in him that reminded her so much of a particular fox. It surprised her that she hadn't really thought of the other demon for awhile, not since this whole mission started. _

_Her days rarely went by without a single thought of the boy, and this new progress came as unexpected, but still thoroughly welcomed. A tiny smile graced her lips, and a somewhat fond look appeared across her face. It's because of him, she realized as she continued to watch the silent demon. Or rather, his annoying ways that had gotten her so caught up that everything else seemed irrelevant. She touched her lips at the memory. 'And perhaps that too…' she thought in mild humor. _

_He was well aware of her scrutiny, and a part of him was pleased at her open interest in his person. However, the other half was rather uneasy, as her gaze made him feel things he hadn't felt before. He almost released a relieved sigh when he felt her eyes pull away. The sound of precipitation was unexpectedly soothing as he let himself unwind. Before, he would have never even considered wasting his time on something so insignificant, but with his freedom only as short as their mission, he would willingly take this chance for a moment of temporary solace. _

_Lost in his thoughts, it was awhile before he noticed something rather unusual—the girl was awfully quiet. It was quite a feat itself, considering her relentless ranting for the past hour. Curious, he turned to see what was interesting enough to have rendered her mute. However, he had not expected the sight of her sleeping, looking utterly innocent and vulnerable. She sat reclined against the tree with hands on her lap and legs slightly bent together to one side. His eyes unconsciously trailed to her lips, somewhat parted and glistening sinuously in the dim light. His eyes suddenly narrowed in displeasure. _

_He was man, and he had made his statement, but a new realization had suddenly weighed down on him…_

_She was also a woman._

* * *

There were a few in life he deemed important, his family, his friends, and then there was her. She was perhaps the only female, apart from his mother, he had ever allowed within his guard. She was a pleasant remembrance of his early youth, one of the first perks that made him realize the simple joys of human existence. He still remembered the afternoon she had confessed of innocent affections he had purposely declined. He had done it for her sake. In his world, he was a hunted man and their ties would have only made her a target of his past.

In a last effort to protect her, he had erased her memories, knowing she would be better off without the knowledge of who he was, and what she meant to him. He had not seen her ever since. However, he had not predicted the turn of events, or had simply misjudged the complexity of the threads of fate that had weaved their paths away only to be reunited. It had been seven months since she first stepped through the gates of Tokyo University, and a month since she had his full and undivided attention.

Today was just one of those days when they would spend their time reveling in the small comforts of each other's company. They had been walking quietly along the lake when her pace increased, leaving him on the trail, before she suddenly stopped. "Maya?"

He was about to reach out to her shoulder when she spoke, "Tell me, Shuichi, have you ever been in love before?"

He drew a confused look. "What's with–" "Please, just answer the question," she interjected, and he noticed how her hand had curled into a fist at her side.

"No," he replied. "But I had been close once, a long time ago."

He saw her relax, and for a moment, she was silent. "What happened?" he heard her ask.

"I let her go." He turned his head to the side, reminiscing at the scene of two lovers in a boat whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears. "Being with me would have only cost her pain." He heard a sudden intake of breath. He turned his attention back to her, finding it rather amusing how he was talking about her as if she was another person.

Then, when he thought she had decided to drop the matter aside—"That's not true," she began, and his eyes slightly widened in surprise. "I'm happy whenever I'm with you," she spoke, finally turning to face him. "I'm sure she could have been happy too." Her eyes found an empty spot on the ground. "I don't know why, but it feels like I've known you all my life. I've never felt anything like this before," she said before hesitantly meeting his eyes. "I love you," she gallantly declared.

She patiently waited for a reaction, but she found herself disappointed when he remained silent. She bit her lip while she tried to mend her broken dignity with a feigned smile. "Y-you don't have to say anything, I'm just glad that I was able to tell you. Thank you for listening, I'm sure this is nothing. I'll probably forget about it anyway, so don't worry, I—I won't bother you anymore—"

While she was busy stammering and looking at anything but his face, she failed to notice him closing their distance. It was only when he grasped both her shoulders that she finally took notice and halted from her endless stuttering. "Stop," he had whispered.

Her lips froze and parted at his sudden proximity. "S-shuichi?"

The hands on her shoulders slid over her back before taking her within the safety his arms. "Always stay with me, right here by my side," he uttered.

She relaxed and returned his embrace. "Thank you," she spoke, burying her face further in his chest. She meant something to him, and that was enough, for now. Although he couldn't give her the words she wished to hear, she was satisfied knowing that from here on out, everything would be different. She knew, it wouldn't be difficult, he would learn to love her.

* * *

Somewhere in the endlessness of darkness, a lone figure was sitting on the ground heedless to all the anguished wailing of souls. His head was drooped down hiding his eyes from view, his legs extended and arms limp on his sides. Drifting in and out of awareness, he tried to focus while he blocked all thoughts away as his semi-conscious mind gradually deepened into a state of meditation.

Calm…

Balance…

_A flash of amethyst—_

His head jerked up. His peace and concentration, shattered. He bit back a groan. After they had gone their separate ways, he was certain she would be nothing but a fixation of the past. However, he was proven wrong when images of her relentlessly plagued his mind.

He cursed her, and he cursed his weakness. She was a disease that needed to be dealt with immediately. She had already made her way inside his head, and it wouldn't be long before she took a hold of his very core. No, he wouldn't let her. She had already done enough damage. With that thought, he stood up and disappeared through the shadows, carrying with him a vow to reclaim his sanity.

**End of Chapter Two**


	3. Coming Clean

**Disclaimer:** Yu Yu Hakusho is owned by Yoshihiro Togashi.

* * *

**Chapter III**

**_Coming Clean_**

"_Look out!" she screamed in terror as a menacing sphere of demonic energy caught him unaware and knocked him back to the ground. The enemy smirked in satisfaction when the crow remained motionless. "Now that we have that taken care of…" he drew before turning his attention to the blue-haired deity. And in slow, daunting steps, he glided his way towards his prey. The intent in his eyes froze her in her spot. _

_"S-stay right there," she began in a stutter. She could do nothing but watch as the demon narrowed their distance. Then, when she had collected enough nerve to move, she took a step back, and another, until she found herself trapped with nowhere to go but up. She lifted a hand and summoned her oar. However, before she even had the chance to blink, the demon phased out and appeared in front of her. She gasped when he grabbed her occupied hand and squeezed hard enough that her paddle vanished into thin air. _"_Ah ah ah, I don't think so," he taunted. _

_Beneath his hold, her skin had gone cold. She could hear her heart drumming in her ears. She wiggled her hand free but to no avail, his grip only tightening further. Miraculously, she found her voice as she managed a convincing retort, "let go of me," she barked._

_Crimson-irised eyes studied her with interest. "What's a Spirit World servant doing prancing around these parts of the realm—" he paused, his eyes sliding to the side and taking the unconscious form behind him into account as he continued, "—and with a demon none-the-less."_

"_That's none of your business," she yelled as she tried to give him a decent glare of disgust._

"_Oh?" He sounded amused when he released her hand, only to grab her neck in a loose clasp. "You know, I could easily end your life if I wanted to. It wouldn't take much, only a twitch of a muscle," he said with a chuckle. "So don't give me that look, it makes me want to hurt you."_

_Her eyes flashed in anger. "Go ahead," she boldly replied. "I'm not afraid of you."_

_His face turned serious. It didn't take long before she felt his fingers squeezing around her neck. She tried to hold a determined look on her face, biting her lip to stop its trembling and forcing herself not to cry as her eyes started to shimmer with impending tears. Then, just when things seemed most bleak, she heard him laugh as his grip slackened almost immediately. His mouth suddenly curved into an evil smirk and he leaned in closer as if he had some secret to share. "I think I'm going to keep you," he unexpectedly declared._

_Her eyes widened in shock. But as he was about to grab her for the second time, his face suddenly turned dangerous, and before she knew it, the crow-demon had appeared behind him with a hand poised for an attack. However, the crow found himself swiping through air when the enemy disappeared before their eyes. _"_Karasu," she cried out in relief._

_The bomb-wielder sensed his opponent behind him and he didn't waste a second as he shifted around, his arm extended in a swing, with his hand ready to make contact. However, the other demon was fast enough to avoid the deadly assault as he jumped back a safe distance away. _"_You're not dead yet?" the nameless challenger asked, marveled._

_The crow's eyes narrowed into slits. "It would take more than a measly trick to kill me."_

_The enemy smirked. "We'll see about that," he sneered. With no further ado, he charged forward. Halfway through, he leaped to the air and did a flip. He raised a glowing fist and drew his arm back for good momentum. Looking up, the crow measured the incoming attack._

_"__What—" she began but was not quite able to finish when suddenly she went sailing through air, the force behind his toss successfully knocking the wind out of her lungs. She heard an explosion before she awkwardly landed on a thick shrub. "W-what the hell!" she yelped, scuffling back on both feet. With cheeks red in irritation, she pointed a finger at her preoccupied escort. _"_You jerk! You're supposed to protect me, not kill me!"_

* * *

She made her way through the Spirit World palace with one foot following the other mechanically, the soles of her wooden slippers barely lifting from the ground in each step, her mind elsewhere. She didn't know the exact moment when it happened, but somehow, in someway, _he _started to mean something. Their time together, fleeting as it was, had found a means to etch itself in her memory.

Though they had long since parted, he remained a permanent fixture in her life, invading her days and nights with thoughts and dreams so wrong, and yet, she couldn't help but long for more. She was not oblivious to his masculine appeal and had never denied her attraction to him. But what had caught her off-guard was the intensity with which he could so easily affect her senses, impairing even her good judgment. She knew right then, it was more than skin deep, and it seemed like it had taken her forever to finally accept it.

She understood the cost that came with her inclination for such sin, and in all honesty, it was quite alright, for she had already grown past the guilt and the shame. She had existed for millennia with nothing but her duties, bound to a world of apparitions, seen but always unfelt, so who could really blame her if she wanted this, if she wanted to be…_selfish_. Her thoughts concluded just as she reached the door that would ultimately lead to her ruin. Still, she pushed through and willingly went in the darkness.

As soon as she stepped in, the lanterns flared to life, revealing a vast chamber that seemed to extend for miles. The flames danced and flickered, casting soft shades across the room, drawing attention to what appeared to be stone carvings of bodies on the walls, each with a story of their own. Her strides carried her deeper into the shadows, in areas touched by only a fraction of light. Then she found it. In an endless string of frozen faces, only one stood out the most. The others were nameless, but not him.

Cold surface met her fingers while she traced the contours of his features, every arch and every curve a valued recollection. She almost laughed at moment's mockery. Here she was about to give up everything, and yet, the only thing she could think of was how much she wanted to see him. Right then, nothing seemed to truly matter but him. Slowly, she pulled away and silently grabbed something from the insides of her kimono.

She examined the dagger in her hand, finally realizing the gravity of what she was about to do. Then, with no regard to consequence, she plunged it hard into his chest, stabbing it again and again until it finally pierced through its solid surface. She almost dropped the dagger when his inanimate likeness gave a pulse. She took a step back and watched as light seeped through the fracture. And like witnessing time in decelerated motion, the crack widened, branching out on all sides, giving way to the brightness that only grew more blinding with each passing second. Then with a burst of energy that nearly knocked her down, the light died only to reveal an empty spot on the wall.

The seal had been broken, and finally, the vessel was free.

* * *

An explosion rocked the palace grounds, instantly prompting a huge commotion in the hallway. Amidst the chaos, she discerned one word—_demon. "_What's happening?" Botan asked a junior ferry-girl, seizing her arm in a hold that rendered her incapable of escape.

"There's a demon running wild!" she replied, her voice choking in alarm. "It was terrible; he blew up everything he touched!"

Something clicked in her mind. Her lilac eyes widened in alarm. _I couldn't be,_ she thought. "Tell me, this demon, what does he look like?"

"I'm not sure…" the younger female hesitated.

Botan unconsciously tightened her grip. "Please, I need to know," she said, almost pleading for the answer. There was a short pause before she finally got her wish, "He had a mask on so I couldn't—" "Thank you," she interjected, the brief description enough to confirm her suspicion. She didn't waste a second before she hurried away, fully intent on finding the source of disorder.

Panic mangled her mind as she raced through the corridors, her apparent transgression now haunting her with fury. She had planned it so perfectly. She had successfully carried out everything down to the last detail, but had not foreseen this regrettable twist of events. She had meant to go to him, past the gates that separates the fortunate from the damned, but clearly he had crossed it first, and now there was hell to pay.

Nothing could have prepared her for what awaited at the end of the hallway. Beyond the ruined doors to the training grounds, in the midst of all the destruction, was the sight she had expected and dreaded all along. Her blood froze. He had one of the guards hauled up by the hair when she made her presence known. "Karasu!" she called his name with a tone that spoke volumes of shock and horror.

He seemed to have gone still at sound of her voice. "Let him go," she spoke, but it came out sounding more like an order that it only agitated him further. "Please, Karasu," she gently implored when she realized her mistake. "Please let him go." She saw his profile tense, his hold tightening then wavering at his clear indecision. And after what seemed like an eternity, he finally released his prey. She watched with a relieved sigh when his unfortunate quarry scampered away, limping. However, everything was short-lived when the demon's attention turned to her.

His face was bare, revealing features that were twisted with rage. His brows were creased with lines of open hatred, and his eyes had dark shadows underneath them. His breath was rapid and deep, his senses heightened with adrenaline. "_You…_" he drew, looking dangerously feral. She cautiously tried to approach him, but the malice in his voice hit her like a physical blow that made her stop. "Stay back!" he roared in genuine threat.

"Why are you doing this?" she spoke lightly in spite of the situation.

"Why? You're asking me _why_?" His features twisted into a look of disgust. "You have a lot of nerve, girl." She could only watch on helplessly as he continued on his tirade, her brows creasing together at the ambiguity of his words. "You're the one to blame!" he snarled, his shoulders trembling in unbridled frenzy. Then all of a sudden, his posture sagged and his head dropped, hiding his eyes from view. "It burns my mind," he mumbled, all the previous spite surprisingly lacking from his voice. "If only I could get rid of these thoughts, it would be enough."

"I don't understand…" she drawled in a whisper.

He lifted his head, his expression changing back into that of intense dislike. "I can see you!" he growled, her ignorance only fuelling his anger. "Even when I close my eyes, you are there!" He frantically prodded his head. "You're in here, and I can _feel_ it!"

Her heart seized in her chest.

"I've done everything possible, yet the images keep on coming, refusing to go away, constantly keeping me prisoner," he bitterly revealed. He glared down at his own hand, as if it had done him the greatest injustice, like it was the most wretched thing in existence. "But that will be the extent of your influence." His hand clenched into a fist. "I'll free myself of these bonds, even if it's the last thing I'll ever do."

He was a hardened soul, yet looking past all the hard edges was someone entirely different, for stripped of all the anger and hatred was a weary and defeated man. And she knew this, for she was no different, for while he was a prisoner, she was a slave. "Would it be that bad?" she managed a sad smile when she asked. "I know we never really got along, but we've always worked things out. We never really hated each other, right?"

His jaws clenched at the absurdity of her question. How could she still doubt his antipathy when she was the root of his disease, the cause of his affliction? Seemingly convinced with himself, he was quick to reply, only to find his words stifled in his mouth. He was suddenly overwhelmed with frustration, and then alarm. With a snarl, he leapt towards the unsuspecting female, and within seconds, he had her neck in a deadly grip. In an involuntary response, her hands shot up to his wrist. "Do not toy with me, wench!" he roared, digging in his fingers as she whimpered. "How dare you ask me questions you already know the answers to!"

"You don't really want to do this," she forced a reply while she tried to speak and breathe past the pressure on her larynx. She heard a growl and the strain on her neck increased until she saw black, vivid spots within her vision. Tears began to gather in the corners of her eyes, threatening to penetrate and overflow her demeanor, but she willed herself to hold back, refusing to show her weakness, unwilling to submit to her limitations. This time around, she swore, it would be different. _She would be the stronger one. _

She painfully gasped for air, scratching on anything she could lay her fingers on as he lifted her up, choking her to the verge of unconsciousness. And just when she thought she would finally succumb to merciful oblivion, he dropped her into a piteous mass on the floor before erupting in a fit of maniacal laughter. "Now I'm more than convinced," he sneered, a crazed look on his face. "You deserve everything I have in store for you."

"Karasu," she hesitated, unconsciously shrinking back. She had barely braced herself when he grabbed her arm and hauled her up with her feet scrambling for balance. "I promise you will feel each and every second of this," he declared in a hiss. "And when everything's done…" She mutely watched as the angry lines of his face shifted into a look of serenity. "I will finally have my peace," he evenly concluded, his clawed fingers caressing her face, seemingly mocking her with its gentleness.

"You will hate me," he added, as if to convince not just her, but himself as well. "_You must_." She felt warm blood running down her cheek from where he had cut into her skin. Then she stiffened, completely taken aback when he pulled her into a solid embrace. She was immediately aware of the furious beating of his heart and the gentle warmth of his chest, a proof of his restored vitality… a second chance, a second life. And just like that, she was flooded with a sense of comfort and security that she could not help but close her eyes.

Then before she knew it, just as she was starting to believe that everything must have been nothing but a bad dream, she felt an excruciating pain shot up her side. She felt the sides of her kimono become increasingly soaked as a heady, metallic scent filled her nostrils. _Blood._ It was only then when she realized that a clawed hand was deeply embedded just below her ribcage.

"K-karasu…" she clutched at his arm, her voice wavering in unbearable pain. She tried to move, but his grip was too strong with her strength rapidly dwindling away in a crimson river that pooled beneath them. "I have won…" She heard him say without any trace of emotion. With a grimace, she choked back a pained gasp when the hand, which was gored in her, gave a merciless shift before it was yanked out, leaving a gaping hole in her side. She spewed blood across his chest before crumbling on the ground before his feet.

As she laid bleeding on the cold floor, memories came flashing before her eyes, and for a moment she thought she was back to a place and a time when there was only her… and him. Then suddenly, everything became visible, all that was hidden, all that was left ignored, even the smallest of details was now before her eyes. It was so vividly clear that she could see and feel it as if it were happening right then and there—

_His eyes gleaming with mild curiosity at their introduction…_

_His eyebrow barely twitching at her obnoxious racket…_

_His composure rather rattled with the enemy's attention shifting her way…_

_His fingers rough but gentle on her arm as he hauls her off to a direction…_

_His lips warm and tender against her own…_

_His hand extended out waiting for her to take hold…_

—then all became blurry and everything lost its worth as visions faded and replaced by reality: the sight of his back as he walked away, each step one closer to leaving her forever. _No…_ She began in anguish. One by one, her defenses tumbled down, and she felt the tears she had tried to hold back begin to flow unhindered. _Wait…_ She wanted to call out, but didn't have enough power to move an inch of a muscle. She felt her airways clogging up with blood, making the simple task of breathing so oppressed and painful to bear. _It can't end like this_, she told herself while she looked on at his retreating form.

She didn't know where the sudden drive came from, but she knew she had to stop him, somehow. She refused to accept that all of their memories were meant to come together at this point, at this moment. "Don't go…" she started in pain. She rocked from side to side, struggling to stand on both feet while she grasped on her wound. She saw how his steps slowed at her request. "Please don't leave," she begged, this time with a force that finally brought the crow to a standstill. "You can't, not when there's so much left to say, so much left to find out." _So much left for us…_

Botan felt a glimmer of hope when she noticed how his shoulders seemed to tremble each time she spoke. She knew then, she had his attention. "You have almost killed Kurama," she uttered in a tone that was neither defending nor condemning. The demon tensed at the mention of the particular name, but had oddly chosen to remain silent. "I was so certain, I hated you…" The demon-crow was a vicious man who found no value in the sanctity of life and the worth of sentimental ties with others. He cared only about one thing—himself, and nothing else. She had been a witness to these truths as it were proven, time and again, that his soul was as dark as the shadows of the abyss. He was everything she hated. _And yet… _

"I was wrong."

_He was also everything she wanted._

"It's strange that I always find myself going back to the time when nothing else mattered but us," she continued while she took small, shuffling steps towards him. She had lost so much blood that it was a wonder how she was able to stay on her feet, much less walk. Her will was what pushed her to defy the limits of the body as pain threatened to overcome her sanity. "It's so unfair how you invade my mind so easily," she murmured in mild expectation as she neared his form. "But nothing is more cruel than the thought of never seeing you again." Her purple orbs flickered, dimly, like a candle running out of wick. She was already on extended battery and time was finally at her door waiting to collect. She knew it was now or never.

Then, within three heartbeats, she had him within a tight hold with her cheek pressed against the expanse of his back, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. She immediately felt him tense and quiver, whether from shock or anger she wasn't certain. She was already set on a goal that everything else seemed insignificant. "It's always been you," she whispered, her voice slightly trembling with emotion. "I never thought I could feel this way again. This desire, this desperation, this need to fill the emptiness inside me… it's making me selfish." How did it come to this? She found herself wondering while she grabbed on to a fistful of clothing by his abdomen before pulling herself, deeper, into the broad of his back, as if worried he might disappear from beneath her touch. "I don't want to be alone anymore…"

One of her hands slid up to settle on his chest, right over his heart. "Do you feel it?" She closed her eyes as she engrossed herself in the rhythm of his beating core, fast and hard, playing in harmony with her own like a well-rehearsed chorus. "Don't you see?" she spoke in a half-whisper. "_We're two of the same._" She sensed him give a slight jerk, as if to get away. Tightening her hold, she decided to lay it all bare and take the risk—

"_I need you…_" Botan began weakly.

He froze with eyes wide open.

"_I want you…_" she said more aggressively.

His eyes closed, an angry frown creasing his forehead as he tried to drown out everything.

_"__I want you!_" she called out in desperation, her voice thundering across the room and breaking into the last of his defenses. "_I want you, Karasu!_" She cried out with the last of her energy as renewed tears poured uncontrollably from her weary eyes. "_Only you…_" And just like that, everything seemed to drain out of her. _I'm sorry I'm not strong enough…_ she thought before darkness finally consumed her. Hands slowly loosened their grip and eyes flattered close before she lifelessly sagged against his back.

Karasu's eyes snapped open, a look of alarm drawn on his face. And before he was even aware of his actions, he had already turned around, barely catching the deity against his chest before she hit the ground. With a frown he started, "I grow tired of your games!" he growled, though it lacked its usual bite. Forcefully, he gripped her arms and pulled her away. Her head immediately drooped to her chest, but this seemed to have gone unnoticed when the crow-demon continued on his heated rant, "Do you really think your words carry any weight? They are nothing to me!" He shook her violently, her head bobbing limply as though her neck were a spring.

"Now I am certain, hurting you will never be enough! I will hunt down those you love and I will make you watch as I—" His tirade was cut short when her incapability for any sort of response finally registered. Unconsciously, his hold loosened and she fell to his chest, lifeless. And as if he had been freed from a blindfold, he finally became fully aware of the pungent smell of blood clouding the air, and the ruby fluid pooling under, soaking his feet. A hand went to her waist and the other hesitantly ran over the crown of her head. "Woman?" he began, subdued and uneasy. When there came no reply, the demon held the deity with him as he went down on one knee. And like a precious cargo, he laid her on the floor with gentleness he had not used at any point of his life.

"Botan," In a stifled voice, her name escaped his lips, foreign and unexpected. She no longer glowed with a vivacity he had become so accustomed to, and he found himself desperately seeking it out. His hand extended and had barely grazed her cheek when his fingers flinched back. She was cold. Indecisively, trembling digits brushed the hair off her face to study the tears that stained the planes of her deadly pale skin. And as his eyes strayed down to the unpleasant sight on her side, something twisted within the core of his being. With startling urgency, he searched but found not a spark of energy, not a tug of breath, not a throb of pulse, not one single sign of life.

Then the weight of realization dropped on him like a ton of bricks. What had he done? This was what he had always wanted. He had dreamt and plotted for this moment. He had been so convinced that her demise would be his ultimate conquest. However, seeing her as she was now gave him no pleasure, no joy, no satisfaction. Had he been wrong all this time? He questioned himself, and when he completely grasped the enormity of his mistake, guilt turned into anger—not at her, but at himself.

She had suffered the price for his cowardice. The whole act proved his shame true, for he now knew his enmity as nothing more than a plight to convince himself that he was still his own, that she held not a sense of authority over his mind and soul. A grim expression appeared on his face. How could he have allowed his foolishness to blind him to something so important? If only he had been less of a coward to face the changes in the wind. If only he had not hidden behind the shelter of his anger. If only he had been man enough to admit that he, too, needed her—_wanted her_ more than anything he had ever wanted in his life.

_It was his turn to make the sacrifice._

Gently, he pulled her into his arms and cradled her against his chest. She remained anchored in between his legs while he settled back on the floor. With nose buried in her hair, the demon closed his eyes as he allowed her scent to entirely surround and invade his senses. A brilliant light engulfed his form before it gradually reached over her like vines creeping on a wall. "_Come back to me…_" he called out as he shared his very essence to the only woman he found worthy of his time and favor.

She was in the middle of the darkness when she was blinded by an intense light before she found herself surrounded by its gentleness. She knew this warmth. It was a familiarity that embedded itself in her soul even if her memories were blurred. She could remember it so well. It was…

"_Karasu…"_

Something had happened, something unheard of in the history of the three realms. With the shadows as their only witness, a demon willingly made a Spirit World servant his greatest weakness, his sweetest defeat. His pain was her pain, his strength was her strength, and his life was her life, and though their illicit ties would further threaten the foundation of their beliefs, their souls refused to set each other free as they only dragged themselves deeper into the depths of the unknown. There would be no light in their darkness, no direction, no promise…

And yet they willingly sank, and were drowned, and were lost_ together_ in its eternity.

**End of Chapter Three**


	4. Against the World

**Disclaimer: **Yu Yu Hakusho is owned by Yoshihiro Togashi.

* * *

**Chapter IV**

**_Against the World_**

_"Get off me!" the nameless villain barked as he struggled to get his persistent attacker off his back. Unfortunately, the ferry-girl had another thing planned when she bit his ear, hard. With a pained scream, he grabbed her arm and tossed her away into a pitiful pile on the floor. "You crazy bitch!" he roared, clutching his ear. His eyes enlarged at the sight of his own blood, and he was absolutely seething when he turned his glare on the woman struggling to gain footing on wobbly feet. "I was going to be lenient with you," he uttered in menace, "but I've changed my mind."_

_In a second, she could do nothing but watch as a wave of hostile energy surged its way towards her. Everything happened so fast that it seemed a blur when she was shoved a few steps back to the ground before everything exploded into a brilliant flash of red and white. She reflexively raised an arm to cover her eyes. She could hear debris falling all around her as smoke billowed up in her face and made her cough._

_When the rumble subsided, she found herself looking up, greeted by a sight she had least expected. "K-Karasu?" He stood slightly hunched forward with his back to her. His posture was rigid and his arms were tense, flexed at his sides. However, it took her awhile to notice the blood that began to drip and pool on the ground beneath him. Her eyes widened in horror. He was hurt. "Are you–" "Fool!" he snarled, his eyes flashing dangerously as he threw her a side-long glance over his shoulder. "Are you trying to get yourself killed!" She was certain he had his teeth grinded together underneath his mask._

_With trembling lips, she replied, "I only wanted to–" But the crow refused to have any more of her words when he averted his attention back to his opponent and interrupted in an unsympathetic timbre, "Why don't you make yourself useful for once and stay out of my way!"_

_This led to their current situation with her sitting across a dangerously silent demon. After narrowly defeating his opponent, they had taken refuge at a nearby cave. Words had not been spoken ever since his harsh reminder of her worth in the battlefield. And although she had grown to be familiar with his aloof disposition, his current indifference was something she found troubling. Gone was his smug detachment, or his casual disinterest, instead, he conveyed a silence underlined by anger._

_She bit her lip when she noticed the subtle tensing of his tightly pressed lips. He was in pain, and knowing his enormous ego, she could just imagine the effort he was taking to hide his current predicament. He was hurt and it was her fault. She didn't know what had brought her to act so recklessly. All she remembered was his defensive form behind crossed arms as he readied himself to confront the danger of his opponent's attack. The next thing she knew, she had latched herself on the enemy's back, clawing and biting, totally overlooking the peril that came with such a thoughtless action._

_She had only wished to help, but as she gazed at him from across the dimly lit embers, as she studied his battered chest and his strained posture, she knew that her interference had only done him more harm than good. Perhaps if she had only stayed in the side-lines, then he would not have dealt with such an onslaught so openly. She clenched a fist and with great resolve, she made a decision… _

_Her kimono rustled as she stood up, catching the crow's attention. Without a pause, she walked the short distance around the bonfire, her eyes never leaving his as she reached his side of the corner. She dropped on her knees beside him, and before he could even utter a word, she spoke, finally breaking the long due silence. "Let me heal you," she said above a whisper. He merely stared at her through narrowed eyes. That should have been a sufficient reply, but she was more than determined as she boldly brought a hand towards his injured chest. However, before she could even feel the warmth of his flesh, he grabbed her wrist in a grip that made her wince._

_She flinched when she saw his eyes glimmer with despise. "You dare…" His voice was lethal and she found herself momentarily terrified. "Don't ever touch me." His grip tightened as he spoke. "I think you have this all wrong, so let me remind you before I will be forced to end your sad, useless life. I have killed men, women, and children alike. They're but little pests to me, and believe me, you're no different." The brutality of his soulless words only increased as moments passed by. "As a matter of fact, I can kill you now and rid myself of the dead-weight…"_

_The dangerous shift in the atmosphere made her fully comprehend the seriousness of his threat. Her eyes widened in panic, and just as she was about struggle for freedom, the overpowering force vanished as though it was never there to begin with. The demon managed a subdued growl before releasing his grip. She immediately attended to her abused wrist. To her surprise, as she looked to see her aggressor, she was greeted by the sight of him staring, seemingly confused, at the hand that had held her so harshly. Then, without so much as a warning, he groaned while he grabbed his head in agony. The fact that he had threatened to kill her never crossed the deity's mind when she immediately leaned forward, calling his name in concern. _

_"I don't need–" he began in a futile attempt to force the words through the pain. It was then when he felt a gentle pressure on the sides of his skull, followed by a warmth that slowly eased the pain. He became gradually aware of what was happening: the woman had her palms on each side of his head, tenderly pressed on the spot just above his ears, and in the corners of his vision, he could see the flickering glow of spiritual energy. He tried to refuse the light as he moved to withdraw, but to his misfortune, the ferry-girl seemed to have made it a personal mission to rile him whenever she could when she released his head and latched on his arm. "Don't be stupid!" she said in frustration over his continued struggle. "You can't heal on your own, not at this condition!" _

_"Let go," he ordered, but it was not enough to deter her from her actions as she pulled herself further into his side, her hands entirely snaking around his arm. His free hand came up and pushed her away, but she didn't even bulge. With a growl, he bunched a fistful of her hair and yanked hard, earning him a pained shriek. "I said let go!" he exclaimed in infuriation. "No!" he heard her stubborn reply. His ire only grew worse as she was not the least dissuaded by his ceaseless assault on her scalp. _

_But something in the air made him stop dead. Something briny invaded his senses and he immediately found it too bitter a smell on his nostrils. The faint hiss given off by the energy coursing from the woman's hands took his notice, he could feel it creeping up his arm and leaving a trail of heat he found surprisingly pleasant. Was she deliberately trying to provoke him? Had he not made it indisputably clear that he needed not her help, nor her pity? He thought in displeasure while he began to seriously consider teaching the woman a lesson. But it was also then when he became fully aware of all the restrained trembling and whimpering she was making. His eyes widened; she was crying. Straight away, the vice-like grip on her locks loosened and his hand fell back to his side. _

_He was surprisingly lost. Something about the situation felt wrong, somehow, as though he had just crossed a boundary that ought never to be crossed. But that's impossible, he deemed it certain, for he had been here before, and not once had he waited just to consider his actions. He had not batted an eye when he slaughtered an entire village. He had not stopped a second to doubt his motives when he tortured many just for his own sick pleasure. He was convinced that this time was no different; this girl was just like the others. But if that were truly the case, then why was he having such a hard time getting rid of this one petty ferry-girl? He willed his hands to fulfill his mind's cruel bidding; however, the best he could do was a decent twitch. _

_Then, she surprised him when the spiritual energy she was emitting flickered and dimmed before vanishing completely. "I know I'm pathetic," she started. "I'm useless from the start." The sudden shift of events left him so baffled that all he could do was listen while she spoke. "I'm so weak, so disgustingly inadequate that he—that's why he couldn't–" With a sudden intake of breath, she stopped as if she had not meant to divulge that particular thought. She had said everything with such dejection that he could not help but wonder._

_"I'm tired of people getting hurt because of me." She sniffled through her tears. "And yet it's because of my foolishness you were injured," she murmured, ashamed of her incompetence. "I've never wished you harm, not after how you've protected me, even though I've done absolutely nothing to deserve it." It took her all the courage just to look at him. "So please, allow me to heal you, not as an apology, but a sincere gratitude for saving my life," she uttered, delicately picking the right words. She knew of his pride and the last thing he would ever want, especially from her, was sympathy. _

_There was a brief silence while all she was conscious of was his ragged breathing and her own. The tension of his muscles a blaring testimony of his distrust. And just as she began to assume that her efforts had been in vain, she felt him relax before he leaned back against the concrete wall. There was a pause with the deity uncertain on how to proceed when the sulking crow gave a growl. "What are you waiting for!" he said through gritted teeth, his face turned away from her. She could only stare in surprise. "Get on with it before I change my mind!"_

_A small but significant smile graced her lips, and with no further ado, her palms glowed as she resumed on where she had left off. "Thank you…" she whispered softly, almost inaudibly. And as the deity engaged herself tending to his wounds, the demon was just as occupied with his own thoughts. His response to everything was disconcerting. It had been his very intention to remind her exactly why he was feared by many and crossed by a few. However, it only took one look on her terrified face for his plans to be immediately misplaced. There was not a tolerant fiber in his being, and yet, he had allowed her to violate his privileged space. _

_How could a mere Spirit World servant affect his very nature? Had he missed something along the way? "Woman," he grimly started when he realized something dreadful at the thought. And although she had not given any indication, he knew, she was listening. "I don't like you, I'm not one of your so-called 'friends', it's best for you to remember that," he assured and stressed more to himself as he mulled on the root of everything. True, he was angered by her intrusion in his battle, but the longer he lingered on his thoughts, the more he began to shed light on a startling fact…_

_"I know," he heard her muted reply._

_What really enraged him was her imprudence that had almost gotten herself killed, for within those seconds when she stood at the receiving end of the enemy's wrath, he had felt for the first time, he had worried for something other than his own skin. With narrowed eyes, he furiously buried that knowledge, deep within the dark recess of his mind, into a place where it would stay confined within a dead bolt of self-denial._

_"I don't like you either."_

_And they were even._

* * *

She rapped on the door. "Milord," she called.

At first there was no reply and then Koenma's distinctive voice said, "Enter." In mild apprehension, Botan swallowed once before she opened the door and stepped in. She scanned the area for signs of the young prince, and as her gaze swept through all corners of the room, she found his adolescent form looking over the wide crystal window. "Lord Koenma," she hesitantly began, "I came to talk about–" "So I've heard," the young ruler interjected, his tone dripping with displeasure.

Had he not treated her fairly? Had he not shown her enough kindness? Had he been horribly lacking that she found it almost too easy to deceive him and betray his trust? He had never had to deal with anything remotely resembling his current situation. She had been one of his most loyal servants, a reliable confidant, and a trusted friend—a fact that only made it all the harder to swallow. He felt thoroughly betrayed. "Do you have any idea what you've done?" he gravely asked while he caught the sight of his scampering subjects outside the palace. "You've served me well all these years, and I've never once doubted you." With a disappointed look, he turned to face her. "But now, I just don't know what to think." He took a moment to note the unexpected changes.

Instead of the usual, she was now adorned in a dark-purple kimono held together by a crimson obi at the waist. He didn't fail to notice her slightly disheveled appearance with her hair freed from her usual pony-tail. She looked as if she had hurriedly dressed, and had done little more than comb her locks with her fingers. However, upon further inspection, he became fully aware of the massive bruising on her neck. It was then when he realized her unbound locks were meant to hide the evidence of _his_ crime. He held back a wince as he went on, "The palace is left in disarray. The gates to Tartarus are almost completely destroyed, and with the current breach in the barrier, who knows what other abominations could have found their way out. At this very moment, the guards are doing their best to fix this mess."

He studied her with guarded eyes when she lowered her gaze to the ground. "At least a dozen have been reported injured, and ages' worth of files gone into flames, just like that." She flinched at his accusing tone, and he almost felt guilty when he felt pleasure at her apparent distress. "You have deliberately disobeyed my orders, and for what? My father will be furious; the humans will suffer his wrath, and you, as well." Then, in a reduced tone, he added, "_But_ if you tell me where he is, I assure you that this 'momentary lapse in judgment' will be overlooked. No one will know, and you will be free to keep your duties."

Her continued silence spoke of the lengths she was willing to go for such foolishness. His eyes narrowed in frustration. He could not come up with anything possible, or sane, to justify her actions. "What would your friends say if they found out about this? Have you already forgotten what he's done? Need I remind you that with a little less luck, you could have guided Kurama's soul back to the Spirit World yourself," he said, unknowingly stroking a nerve. "You of all the people should know what he's capable of doing. He has taken countless innocent lives and ruined many others!" He was unrelenting. "He's a murderer!" And just like that, something broke. "He's nothing but a heartless monster!" Something that held words from bursting from her chest, and it made itself known when she interrupted.

"Aren't they all, nowadays?" she spoke in a firm voice that caught the prince in a surprise. "Yes, his sins in the past seem infinite, and as a ruler of the Spirit World, you judge by the rules," she said, moving her gaze to meet a pair of russet ones, "but since when did you personally decide based on what happened so long ago?"

With a sigh, Koenma briefly closed his eyes, giving her a look of restrained frustration. "This is not about me."

"No, it is not, it's about giving fair odds," she spoke with a gesture of an arm. "Hiei's reputation was not the most attractive either, yet you had easily cleared him of his crimes—and what about Kurama?" She found it hard to mention the fox-demon, knowing that he only had good intentions behind his crime. "Wasn't he a part of the conspiracy to steal the three artifacts from your father's vault?" Her hands curled into fists at her sides. "If you were willing to take a gamble back then, despite the risks, what's different about this one?" she insistently questioned the unexpectedly quiet leader. "Was it because, at that time, it was most beneficial for your case?" With unwavering eyes, she waited.

The proud prince carefully gauged the weight of her words. "And now, is it not for your part?" he asked in response. He watched, curious as her lips parted for a reply, only to close again when her voice failed. "What's going on, Botan?" His tone laced with worry while he continued, "Did something happen that I should know about?" He saw the contours of her face relax at the question before she turned her head to the side in an attempt to avoid his inquiring eyes.

He had noticed something strange about his ferry-girl ever since that failed mission with the crow-demon. There were moments when he would catch her looking pensively, starring blankly at an empty space, lost in her own world. He also recalled one incident when she had randomly asked him about the possibility of passage into Tartarus. Her question had startled him, but before he even had the time to think, she had already discarded her words as nothing but a mere joke. But now when he thought about it, her words might have held some significance. It wouldn't take a genius to piece things together—she had thought of visiting _him_ in hell. This made him shudder in horror and disgust.

"Someone as heartless as you've described wouldn't have concerned himself with someone like me," she spoke in recollection. "But he did. It would have been easier for him if I was left for dead. I've given him so much trouble, yet despite everything, he still protected me." She bravely met his eyes. "He's more than what you think he is." Her smile was weak as her eyes flickered with emotion. "He's more than a _monster_."

The prince gasped in cruel comprehension. "By the gods, you're in lo–!" "Does it really matter? I could no longer be without him. I'd die either way," she quietly interjected, neither confirming nor denying his assumption. He was motionless in disbelief when she concluded, "Lord Koenma, I've never asked you for anything before, and I'll only have this one request and nothing more. There's good in him that only needs a chance, and I hope you find it in your heart to forgive him, as I have."

His lips moved to form words, but to no avail. How could she find it in her conscience to defend him so generously when not a long time had passed since the Dark Tournament? "Do you have any idea what you're asking of me?" he questioned in absolute disbelief. "Surely you must know that with him released you're putting a lot of lives in danger–" His brows furrowed when she butted in, "He won't! He's different, he's changed." Unexpectedly, Koenma's next words came in a whisper, "Is that why you're almost black and blue with bruises, because he's _changed_?" he asked as glum eyes journeyed to study the unpleasant discolorations by her collar.

Her eyes widened, her hands immediately lifting to cover the noticeable hand-print on her neck. "T-this is different," she responded in a falter. "He didn't know what he was doing."

"Exactly, you said it yourself, it's in his nature to kill without so much as a reason!" he pointed out incredulously. "How can you be sure that he can keep that instinct in check, especially when he's roaming around without any restraints?"

Her arms slacked to her sides. "Because I'll be with him..." she trailed, "and I believe in him."

He studied her face, overwhelmed. If he had been told in the past that one of his own would defy him for someone as soiled as that demon, he would have laughed at their insolence. But now, he had no one to mock but himself. He would not tolerate this madness, _however…_

His expression became defeated. He was suddenly tired of the whole argument. With a light heave of a breath, he wearily began, "It's rumored that the artifact you failed to retrieve has been sighted in the Ruins of Ginza, the oldest fallen fortress in the Demon World. We haven't confirmed the validity of this idle talk. I've already sent the Special Defense Team to attend to this matter, but it's been weeks since I've last heard from them. I have no other choice but to send the detectives to investigate." He added hesitantly, "It will do them good to have someone who knows the western planes…"

He heard her light gasp of surprise before he included, "And with news of demons on the prowl for the same item, Yusuke will need all the help he can get." His brows creased and mouth tightened into a stubborn line. "Just be sure that you're right about him and not simply blinded by your–" He paused, worry evident on his face. "I just don't want to see you hurt."

Her eyes softened. "I'm deeply moved and grateful for your kindness, milord. However, this path I've already chosen with all its consequences, and there's no turning back," she said above a whisper. "It's already too late for that." The prince seemed to take her words into mind, and then he gave a slight bow of dismissal before abruptly turning away. She saw the disappointed glint in his eyes and she could not help but feel the gnawing of guilt. Koenma deserved no less than loyalty. _Forgive me. _She regretted not having the courage to say it out loud.

With a bow of respect, she turned for the exit; however, before she could open the door, Koenma quietly uttered, "I guess I just expected too much from you." Botan paused, a hand hovering ready to push through the wooden access. Then, as if he had not said a word, she opened the door and was immediately out of the room, leaving a discouraged man and a parting reply that was never spoken by her lips, _"I never promised anything."_

* * *

A feeling of déjà vu hit her as she floated outside his house. Slowly, she drifted down near his window, and for a moment, she was at a halt, peering into his moonlit room through the half-opened glass panel. Suddenly, a familiar red-head popped in sight looking ready for bed in a white tank-top and a dark pair of sleeping pants. Her breath stilled when emerald eyes widened in surprise. "Botan?" Velvet voice she had not heard for a long time assaulted her senses and she found herself briefly at lost for words. He blinked in wonder. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

A red hue appeared on her cheeks when she realized how dumb she must have looked hovering randomly outside his house. "I-I uh..." she trailed with an awkward laugh. Her mind tried to come up with a good excuse for her untimely visit, but her brain had just decided to abandon her, permanently.

Seeing her discomfort, his eyes softened before he made his way towards her. "Forgive me, I didn't mean to sound rude. It's just that I don't see you around so often these days." A tiny smile graced his lips as he completely opened the window to his room. "Well, come in," he warmly invited.

Hesitantly, Botan maneuvered herself until her feet met solid ground. Her oar disappeared before she tapped the wrinkles off her clothes and then averted her attention to her surroundings. She moved to the middle of the room, and with a stretch of an eye, she noticed that everything seemed to be the same, save for a single frame enshrining a picture of him and a girl on his table. In measured steps, she glided onwards, and when she finally had a clear view of the photograph, it immediately came to her—

_There he was, eyes closed, sitting on a chair with an elbow on its arm, his head resting comfortably on his hand. However, what shattered her all over again was the woman kneeling forward with her lips pressed against his—_

With mellow eyes, she extended an arm to grab the frame. The red-head had just closed the window and was about to speak when he caught the deity studying something with rapt interest. "I've never seen you look so happy…" Her voice easily streamed into his ears as she carefully traced his features on the picture. Suddenly feeling rather uncomfortable, Kurama took a step to relieve the situation. "Botan, I–" However, he had only barely spoken when she caught him off guard. "I'm glad," she uttered, putting the frame back with care. She gave it one last look before she turned to him with a small, genuine beam. "It's been awhile," she began in a pleasant tone, "how have you been?"

His momentary lack of speech said more about his apparent discomfort. "I've been well, just keeping busy with school," he said, pausing for a second before trailing, "among other things…" Her attention turned to the familiar chair at her side. Emerald gaze followed her fingers as she languidly stroked the seat's plush arm in musing. "How are Yusuke and the others?" she asked.

"The usual," the red-head replied with a slight curve on his lips. "Though Yusuke's been giving Hinageshi quite the head-ache lately," he added in mild humor in an effort to ease some tension. He found himself immediately calmed when she released a soft chuckle. "So I've been told," she said. Her hand dropped to her side as her gaze met his from across the room. Silence lingered in the air while she unconsciously marveled at the perfection of his well-sculpted face. From his flowing crimson hair to his long masculine limbs, he was a sight meant to be on a pedestal. He was still beautiful, if not more so than before.

Unbeknownst to the ferry-girl, she had also caught his equal, earnest curiosity. To him, she looked lovely with her hair down as it framed her face perfectly, drawing out those bright, expressive eyes. Her trim figure displayed attractively in a kimono of deep-plum silk which hugged her every curve, making her seem more feminine, more mature. Strangely, this bothered him. For some unknown reason, he preferred the innocence of her usual outfit. "So, if you don't mind me asking, what brings you here at this time of the night?" he inquired for the second time.

His eyes shadowed her as she walked and wandered past him towards the window. He watched silently when she pressed a palm against the pane, oddly finding interest in the empty street outside his house. "Lord Koenma has assigned me as the team's guide for a new mission," she spoke with her back towards him. Her head turned to the side, her profile eerily lit by the moonlight as she regarded him with an intensity he found unsettling. Just when he thought that he could no longer stand those piercing gaze, an almost goofy smile played at her lips as her eyes wrinkled in amusement. "And with you as the competent one among a company of slackers, I trust that you can promptly gather everyone for a briefing sometime tomorrow?" she finished in subtle jest.

"I see," he found himself speaking in an unexpectedly pleased tone, "that's good news." However, he was quick to cover his mouth's blunder. "_Yusuke _had not taken your departure so well, _he _would be delighted," he stressed. She looked at him curiously. Then, her hand fell back to her side, leaving a hand-print behind. He heard a defeated sigh before she finally turned to face him with an elfin smile. "The truth is… that's not the only reason why I'm here," she began as her eyes trailed back to the picture on the table. "She's lovely, what's her name?" she asked behind mysterious lavender eyes.

It was a moment before he tentatively replied. "Maya," he revealed. "She just recently moved to my school, she's actually an old friend," he spoke while carefully taking her reaction into account. "We've known each other since junior high, she's…" he drew, not knowing how to continue without making things complicated. However, his concern was proven unnecessary when she readily concluded for him in a question. "Someone important?" she asked with a composed look that made his lips part and close for an unarticulated response. Aware of his discomfort, Botan's expression softened before she uttered in a whisper, "Don't worry, I know." She saw his face twisting in question. "I was here on the same night six months ago." In a much lower timber, she said, "I saw everything…"

With brows creased in confusion, Kurama stared at an empty space as he journeyed through memory to figure out exactly what she meant. However, he did not recall anything particularly memorable on the same night, six months back. He did, however, remember falling asleep in the middle of polishing a project that had been due the day after. He remembered it so well, it had been around the time he returned from a mission that had left him drained for the rest of the night. Luckily, with Maya as a competent partner, they were able to finish their task without any hassle. Still puzzled, he pulled himself out of his thoughts, his gaze immediately seeking the deity. She was leaning back against the window—

He froze.

Her hair was slightly swept to the side, exposing an ugly bruise on the length of her dainty neck. "What happened?" he asked, alarmed. Her head tilted in wonder, and the moon's fluorescent glimmer immediately lit her skin in revelation. "Who did this?" he heatedly questioned at the sight. Under the sullen light, he discovered a fresh horizontal cut on her cheek, but what really caught his attention was the weariness that haunted her eyes.

She quirked up, then relaxed in understanding. "Oh, this…" she trailed, her fingers delicately brushing along the damaged spot on her face. "This is nothing," she said with a small reassuring smile. With furrowed brows, he poised to move with the intention of attending to her injuries. However, he was glued back to his spot when the ferry-girl shook her head in rejection. "It's okay. It doesn't hurt or anything," she softly assured.

"It doesn't look 'okay' to me," he replied.

But she proved to be just as stubborn. "Really, I'm fine."

"You still need to–" "Please, just stop!" she butted in, her voice rising without her meaning to. His concern only bothered her with jumbled thoughts and emotions. "This is nothing I can't handle, and besides…" She lowered her eyes to the ground, completely avoiding his eyes in the process. "You've hurt me much more than this before."

Kurama's mouth opened to speak but he found his voice lacking. No words could possibly provide any sufficient reply. She was right, he knew, and he had done a good job of convincing himself otherwise. That was, until now, when she had finally laid the truth naked before him. He still remembered that day when she had bared her soul in front of him under the cruel rain. She had foolishly gambled and lost. It had been his last memory of her. He had not meant to be harsh with her confession. He had not meant to be detached and treat her like a mere stranger in the days after. He had only intended to be honest and not lead her on further, yet he knew that he could have handled it with more deliberation.

It was only when she spoke that he was jerked back to reality. "Kurama?" The gentleness of her voice made him look at her face. "If it's not too late…" she drew with troubled eyes that gave a facade of exhaustion, "is it okay if we become friends again?"

He was stunned, speechless. He had never expected such an utterly innocent request, especially from her. How was he going to answer when it should have been him asking that question? He already had his chances. He could have tried harder to fix things between them, yet he had chosen to turn a blind eye. The rift between them had been his fault. Her only mistake had been her choice to invest her feelings on the wrong person. And now as he stared at her, he felt a sudden surge of regret at the thought of all those months that were wasted not doing the things that could have been done, and shame with the knowledge that after everything he had done to her, she only asked for one thing—not his apology, or his affection, but his friendship. He was a fool, and he would be a bigger fool if he allowed this chance to slip by. "No," he said and he saw her wince at his reply. However, he was fast to relieve her dejection when he continued, "We never stopped being friends to begin with."

He was content when he saw her face light up in bliss, and for the first time, he felt at ease. His attention never strayed when she closed their distance with small, gradual steps. Stopping less than an arm's length away, her eyes raised to meet his and he was immediately captivated by the serenity within them. He watched silently, mesmerized when she reached up to tenderly cup his face. He shivered; certain that he had never felt so much from such a simple touch.

She tiptoed and brushed her lips against his cheek, her alluring scent instantly invading his senses. Warm vanilla teased his nostrils, a familiar scent, he realized, he found terribly missed. "Thank you…" she delicately whispered before stepping back and twisting on her heel for her timely retreat. He remained still, even when she made her way to her exit. But before she could unlatch the window's lock, Kurama's faded voice reached her ears. "Wait," he called. She stopped but did not turn to face him. After a brief pause, he began, "You said you had another reason why you're here." His eyes glimmered under the moonlit room with renewed interest. "What was it?" he asked.

Without looking back, the deity answered, picking her words slowly, "To take back what I had lost…" His brows twisted at her vague statement. Nevertheless, he found himself inquiring further, "Were you successful?" He was not able to see the diminutive smile that glimmered across her face when she replied, "_Yes._" With a flick of a wrist, she undid the lock before sliding the window up. A cold gust of air hit her face and ruffled her hair. Quietly, she climbed onto the ledge and lifted a hand to summon her means of flight, but right when she was about to shift on her oar, the fox-demon spoke with underlined regret, "I'm sorry…"

She couldn't help but look over her shoulder to meet his darkened eyes. The corners of her lips creased up in a smile, an expression built on regrets and "what ifs." Then, in an equally low tone, she furtively uttered, "Me too." In a flash, she was suspended in the sky, and before he knew it, she was gone just as suddenly and silently as she had appeared. He remained, fastened, looking at the empty space she had just occupied. The ambiguity of her words was troubling, giving him a feeling of dread that increased as moments passed by. He felt surprisingly blank, as if something had gone missing. A hand unconsciously lifted to feel the skin her lips had touched. He realized her lips had been warm yet so cold at the same time.

* * *

It had been a long night, even longer than it should have been. She was tired, yet strangely invigorated. With a firm grip on her oar and a cloth-wrapped package cradled against her chest, she flew the skies with committed drive that everything around her disappeared. With a squint of an eye, she caught the sight of a temple in the middle of the thick forest. Then, with little twists and turns, she sped through the air towards her destination.

In less than a minute, she found herself perched over sacred soil. She floated down and gently landed on the ground before her paddle vanished into thin air. She paused to survey the area before walking across the lawn with her eyes keeping on the shadows ahead. Already past ungodly hours, the moon stood high above the heavens, its light painting the garden below in a canvas of beautiful metaphors.

The pathway was lined with stone lanterns, and somewhere further she could hear the bamboos creak. In its scarlet clusters of blooms and vibrant leaves, a Japanese red maple hovered over an arched bridge that crossed a vast pond of koi carp into a clearing of abundant greenery. And in the midst of it all was a tree higher than the rest, but what had grabbed her attention was the dark silhouette under its gracefully arched branches. Her heart began to pound in anticipation. Even from afar, she knew, it was him.

He was leaning back, casually, against the trunk with his arms crossed over his chest. His head was slightly drooped forward, eyes closed, with his mask glowing bleakly under the shade. Not wanting to disturb a moment of tranquility, she mutely crossed the bridge towards the lawn. She had almost reached the edge of the tree's shadow when she stepped on a twig, snapping it with a hushed crack that sounded like thunder in the silence.

She stilled in her spot, uncertain. She unconsciously held her breath when his head rose and purple eyes turned in her direction, waiting. She tried to speak, but found no words. She had never thought of how to start things with him after what had happened. Then, just when she thought she could get any more ridiculous, Karasu began, saving her the embarrassment, "They're not coming to get me." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes, I've managed to talk Koenma into making an agreement. He's willing to abolish your prison term if you'll help us look for the artifact," she timidly replied. "It's the one we failed to recover," she added, expecting an immediate reaction, especially at the significance of the news she had just delivered. However, he remained still, staring at her for what seemed like an eternity. She suddenly grew fidgety under his scrutiny. She bit her lip and began playing with the edges of her sleeves.

And when moments seemed dragging, he spoke, his voice ringing deep and steady, "I see." He dropped his arms to his sides before he pushed against the tree and turned upright. Almost out of habit, he slid his hands in his pockets in a comfortable gesture. She felt his gaze, but this time it traveled down, crawling over every inch of her body. Her cheeks brightened a pretty red and she felt her stomach do an excited flip. She found his attention flattering, and she realized it was not as unwelcome as she thought it would be.

"So, uh, what do you think?" she awkwardly asked, meaning the deal between her and the Spirit World Prince. Gleaming eyes trekked back to her face at the question. "It's adequate enough," he replied, though she had a feeling that his answer was meant to cover a totally different matter. And as she was about to react, his eyes trailed to the odd item innocently encaged in her hands. "Oh, these are for you," she said while holding the white bundle over.

He looked at the package, then back at her. His eyebrow rose, ever so slightly, giving her a look of mild suspicion. "I got you new clothes," she spoke as she gave his ragged outfit a timid inspection. "I figured you're going to need them." She gave an uncomfortable laugh when he remained still. Something flickered in his eyes, and for a moment she feared she was about to be, yet again, an unlucky recipient of one of his snide and lofty remarks. For this reason it came as a surprise when he wordlessly grabbed the bundle from her hands.

Her eyes never strayed as she watched him reveal a set of neatly folded black garments. "I tried to get something that looks exactly like yours. It's the closest I could find," she said as he stared at it with pondering eyes, fingers lightly stroking the fabric, so light that she would not have noticed if she had not been paying close attention. "I was hoping it would be enough, but I could always get you another one…" she trailed. "You can try it on if you want." When he remained silent, she turned to leave, fully intending on giving the demon his privacy. However, she had hardly gone a step or two when Karasu spoke from out of the blue, "If you really wished to see me naked, all you had to do was ask."

She froze.

Her jaws dropped. Immediately, she felt the blood rush to her face in embarrassment. She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself before she pivoted to face him with a set of stormy, motivated eyes. "Why you—you ego infected, self glorifying, pompous–" However, contrary to what she had expected, he held no hint of mockery or amusement; instead, he appeared calm and scandalously serious. "You cheeky–" She found it hard to maintain her composure under the intensity of his gaze that she had to force herself to exclaim her next streak of words. "J-just put that blasted thing on, okay!" she seethed, her face a bright scarlet as she twisted on her heel and stomped away.

Grumbling under her breath, she leaned against the other side of the tree, and all the while, trying her best to ignore the sudden rush of heat that flooded her at the thought of him. She momentarily closed her eyes as she took a long heave of air. "Looks like we're back to where we started," she muttered to herself. Surprisingly, a smile graced her face at that thought. She watched the moon as it slid, in and out, behind the swaying branches above her. And she found herself calmed by the distant sounds of nature while she reflected.

It would not have taken long before the guards came to arrest him, and knowing that no one would ever think of looking for a demon in the most hallowed of places, she had immediately brought him to the human world. To a place, she knew, he would be safe in the City of Ujiyamada, home to Ise Shrine. She had left him then without any reservations as she returned to the Spirit World to deal with the hysteria they had left behind.

How could she have sat idly by when they had threatened to take him away? It all had happened so fast that she had hardly had any time to fully comprehend the outcome of her actions. She had betrayed her oath, her prince, and her comrades, but she could never find it in her heart to betray herself. Not when she had been so sure. She was suddenly engulfed with a feeling of utter satisfaction. This was meant to be_._

She had never thought that she would actually come to this point when everything seemed to finally fall into place like a puzzle. However, there were still spaces to be filled and pieces to be revealed. After all the memories, where should they begin? What were they supposed to be? _What were they exactly?_ Allies? Comrades? Friends?

_Lovers?_

Whatever it was, she was not in a hurry. After all, they had all the time in the world. With a sigh, she pushed off against the woody perennial, running a hand through her hair as she glided a short distance away. She reached in the sleeve of her kimono and pulled out a crimson ribbon. She was in the middle of binding her hair into a usual pony-tail when foreign fingers grasped her hands. "Don't," a voice spoke, startling her. She snapped her head to the side and was caught looking back over her shoulder into a pair of amethyst eyes. For no more than three heartbeats, they remained at a standstill. He released her gaze before he seized and pulled the band from her fingers.

Finally, she found her ability to speak. "What are you doing?" she asked and mentally berated herself when it came out in a whisper. She was left puzzled when he responded, "Let go." Her brows arched in confusion. She felt his grasp tighten, but not enough to make her uncomfortable, and when she finally took the clue, her hold slackened as azure-colored tresses immediately cascaded down in a beautiful waterfall around her shoulders. Awkwardly, she began, "Can I have my hand back now?" To her surprise, he released her without ado.

She could feel the warmth of his presence behind her, and she was tempted to lean back against the comfort of his welcoming chest. Overcame by the effect of his proximity, she found herself unable to move away, as if some invisible force held her in place. "Uhm, can I have my ribbon back too?" she asked nervously before inaudibly adding, "Please?"

"I'm keeping it," was his abrupt reply. Her head snapped up, and her mouth went ajar before she did a one-eighty to face him. "But that's—you–!" She had spoken in sheer incredulity that she could not find anything past a broken utterance. And when she had finally deemed herself victorious, she could only think of one word. "Why!" she questioned, half in surprise, half in frustration.

Now clad in the new clothes she had provided, a black sleeve-less trench coat and a pair of black trousers, his unmistakable masculinity called for attention, and she found her eyes trailing down his form of their own accord. Fortunately, she caught herself quickly as she looked back to his face. However, to her absolute horror, she found him staring with an eyebrow raised in an almost mischievous manner. She reddened. He knew she was ogling, and she was certain he enjoyed every second of it.

He reached for the cerulean strands innocently dangling by her ear, twirling it in his fingers with a restrained fascination she found hypnotizing. "I like it better this way," he uttered more to himself while his fingers ran down the length of her locks, as if committing to memory its unique caress against his skin. Slowly, he looked up and caught her gaze with his own. "It suits you." His hand went back to his side.

Botan's blush renewed itself tenfold, and the butterflies in the pit of her stomach made her weak at the knees. Aggravated at how he could easily affect her, she took action. "What makes you think that I'm going to leave it down just because you—just because you said so?" she asked, but her poor attempt to act cool was a complete failure when she tripped over her tongue.

And as though it was the most obvious piece of information in the world, he answered, "Because you can't help but _want_ to." He fixed her a look that dared her to challenge him. She bit her lip as it itched to say something, but they both knew he was right. She avoided his eyes. There was no way she could refuse him.

There was a brief tongue-tied moment before she felt his fingers on her cheek. Her skin warmed underneath his touch. "K-Karasu?" she asked in a murmur, confused at the sudden contact. His expression was dark as he lightly traced the cut on her face. "It doesn't hurt anymore…" she whispered, not sure why she felt the need to assure him.

His fingers concluded its journey as it rested on her pulse, lightly clasping her neck in a perfect outline of the bruise he had inflicted just hours prior. "It would be so easy," he remarked at the vulnerability she presented, "and yet you do not cower."

Her face softened before she enclosed the hand that held her so dangerously with two of her own. "This is the same hand that has saved me so many times before, how could I fear it?" she said, the conviction in her voice, apparent. "How could I when I've already forgotten how to?"

Heartbeats went in perfect sync as pools of the same color reflected each other. Slowly, his other hand came up and framed her cheek. That's when she noticed the beginnings of his energy, a comforting heat that made her eyes close as it soothed and eased the dull pain in her entire being. She felt it caressing her from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes, embracing her with a light unlike any other. Then it clicked. This was his very essence, his life-force.

How generously he had given, and yet, she knew, it was not hers to take. Not when he needed it the most. With this thought in mind, she opened her eyes, and with an apologetic sigh, she pulled away. "I'm in no worse condition than you are. My wounds will heal eventually," she assured him. "I don't want you to waste more energy on me."

"I remember a time when I was in your place and had said words so different, yet so similar." he stated in mild contemplation. There was something in the way he said it—a hint of wry amusement and understanding that went beyond sincerity. "My reason is the same," he went on. The intensity of his eyes made her heart leap. "And," he spoke, pausing as his notice wandered down to her neck, his eyebrows straining together at the sight of his offense, "I don't want you walking about covered with reminders of my weakness." His gaze met hers. "I have almost killed you."

"But you didn't." She could not help but reach out to him, her hand resting thoughtfully on his arm. "And that's all that matters." She smiled, rewarding his honesty with her own. He pried her hand away but kept a firm hold on her wrist. "It's not enough," she heard him say, but this time, she identified signs of aggravation in his tone of voice. She wanted to reply. The growing need to shout at his stubbornness sparked her nerves, but as his eyes burned into hers with a determination unlike any other, she could only settle for silence while she gave a nod in agreement.

It was then when she felt the familiar heat of his energy gradually inching from the skin under his fingers. "Insufferable woman," he muttered in a slur that sounded more like an endearment rather than an insult as he pulled her closer. A light crimson hue colored her cheeks, both in embarrassment and irritation. Then, something remarkable happened.

White, lustrous leaves began to fall from above.

She looked up and caught her breath. "It's beautiful…" she mused while she watched the blossoms as it rained down gently, swirling and twirling, coating everything in white like snow. The tree bloomed soft pink under the moon's luminosity, seemingly glowing against the backdrop of a dark midnight sky. She had never witnessed anything so surreal. She had always thought such a spectacle possible only in dreams and figments of ones imagination.

She took a glance at her demon and she found him gazing up, also caught by the spell of nature. Her eyes trailed down to the hand encircling her own, the distinct flicker of his energy still gleaming from his palm, and then she realized something. She was glowing, but not by his doing. She was surrounded by a different kind of light, a brightness so familiar—her own spiritual energy. She gasped, effectively securing his full attention.

He seemed unaware that he, too, began to glow. His energy blazing like wild flames around him, its brilliant tendrils reaching out towards her as her own did the same and met it half-way. She felt their energies clashing, _melding_. Each a total opposite of the other, yet found a perfect fit in one another. It was an unselfish bond that went both ways, and it was how it was supposed to be, a fair exchange. "This is alright," she drawled.

For awhile, he just looked at her, seemingly taking in the sight she so openhandedly presented with her hair and kimono floating lazily around her. "Just this one time," he spoke in consent, his voice coming in a husk whisper. "I don't deserve it," he added with eyes grim and distant, as if he was far away wandering back in time, "not yet." And somehow, she understood. He wanted no shorter route. He would earn his prize the right way, and when the time came when he could finally call himself truly worthy, it would be worth the merit. She slid her wrist from his hold and held his hand before giving it an affectionate squeeze. _This is alright_, she thought in a perfect echo of her last words.

And together they witnessed the first cherry blossom of the year.

**End of Chapter Four**


End file.
